We fly in Russia like it's our own territory. Almost no resistance.
Four years into a war that began with Russia's full-scale invasion, Ukraine has extended the reach of its long-range campaign to St. Petersburg itself — Russia's second city — forcing civilians indoors for the first time since 2022. The strike, targeting naval arsenals and oil infrastructure across a thousand kilometers, arrived as Putin publicly rejected Zelensky's ceasefire overture, suggesting that the conflict has entered a phase where both sides are deepening their commitment rather than seeking an exit. In the long arc of modern warfare, this moment marks a threshold: the front is no longer a line on a map, but a condition that now touches the heart of Russian civic life.
- For the first time since the invasion began, St. Petersburg residents were ordered to shelter indoors as Ukrainian drones reached Russia's second-largest city and struck naval bases at Kronstadt, over a thousand kilometers from Ukrainian territory.
- Russia claimed to have intercepted 339 drones across multiple regions, yet a Ukrainian drone commander told the BBC his units fly inside Russia 'like it's our own territory' — almost no resistance, targets easily reached.
- The attack landed on the final day of Putin's international economic forum, where he was projecting stability to guests from 130 countries even as air raid sirens sounded outside — a collision of performance and reality.
- Putin flatly rejected Zelensky's ceasefire letter, insisting Russia would not stop until Ukraine surrendered four regions and abandoned NATO ambitions, while Zelensky prepared to fly to London to rally European allies.
- The same day, Russia struck two Ukrainian search-and-rescue vessels on a humanitarian mission in the Black Sea, injuring personnel — a reminder that the war's human cost continues to accumulate on every axis simultaneously.
On a Saturday morning in June, the residents of St. Petersburg heard something new: an order to stay inside. Governor Alexander Beglov issued the directive as Ukrainian drones descended on Russia's second-largest city — the first civilian shelter order since the full-scale invasion began in 2022. The moment signaled something larger than a single attack. The geography of the war had shifted.
The strike was vast in ambition. Ukrainian forces sent drones across more than a thousand kilometers to hit naval arsenals and bases at Kronstadt, home to Russia's Baltic Fleet, while simultaneously striking an oil depot in the Krasnodar region to the south. Russian authorities reported over 140 drones intercepted over the Leningrad region alone, with the defense ministry later claiming 339 shot down across multiple regions. A fire broke out at a military facility; buildings were damaged; residents were evacuated.
President Zelensky framed the operation as both retaliation and demonstration — proof that Ukraine could reach deep into Russia and degrade its war machine. The commander of one drone unit put it more bluntly: his forces fly inside Russia as if it were their own territory, meeting almost no resistance. Ukraine has spent four years building this capacity, systematically targeting energy infrastructure and logistics. Since May alone, analysts told the BBC, more than two hundred trucks and thirty fuel tankers had been struck in occupied eastern Ukraine.
The timing carried its own message. St. Petersburg was hosting an international economic forum, with guests from 130 countries gathered as Putin sought to project normalcy and attract foreign investment. Inside the hall, he was rejecting Zelensky's ceasefire letter — delivered just the day before — insisting Russia would not negotiate until Ukraine surrendered four regions and abandoned NATO. Outside, sirens were sounding.
Zelensky, for his part, declared it was time to end the war, while accusing Putin of choosing to keep fighting. He was preparing to travel to London to meet with Keir Starmer, Friedrich Merz, and Emmanuel Macron — signaling that Ukraine intended to continue the fight with European backing. Meanwhile, on the same day, Russia struck two Ukrainian search-and-rescue vessels in the Black Sea during a humanitarian mission, injuring personnel. The war, now in its fourth year, had become a contest of reach and attrition — and the calculus of peace remained frozen.
On Saturday morning, the residents of St. Petersburg received an order they had not heard in four years of war: stay inside. The city's governor, Alexander Beglov, issued the directive as Ukrainian drones descended on Russia's second-largest city and the surrounding Leningrad region. It was the first time since the full-scale invasion began in 2022 that civilians had been told to shelter indoors—a stark measure of how the conflict's geography was shifting.
The attack was sweeping in scope. Ukrainian forces sent drones across a thousand kilometers of Russian airspace to strike the naval arsenals and bases in Kronstadt, home to the main outpost of Russia's Baltic Fleet. They also hit an oil depot five hundred kilometers away in the Krasnodar region to the south. Governor Aleksandr Drozdenko reported that air defense units had shot down more than 140 drones over the Leningrad region alone, though the Russian defense ministry would later claim 339 drones intercepted across multiple regions throughout the day. A fire broke out at an unspecified military facility; buildings sustained what officials called "insignificant" damage, though residents were evacuated from the area.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky framed the strike as justified retaliation and a demonstration of capability. His forces had covered vast distances to hit what he called "the enemy navy's arsenals and a base in Kronstadt," part of what Ukraine terms "long-range sanctions"—a euphemism for strikes deep inside Russian territory designed to degrade Moscow's war machine. The commander of one Ukrainian drone unit, Yevhen Karas of the 413th Regiment Raid, spoke to the BBC with a confidence that reflected months of accumulated experience. "We fly in Russia like it's our own territory," he said. "Almost no resistance, not hard to reach a target."
The timing was deliberate. St. Petersburg was hosting the final day of an economic forum meant to attract foreign investment, drawing thousands of guests from 130 countries, including a small American delegation—the first in years. The attack underscored the reach of Ukrainian strikes even as Russia attempted to project normalcy and economic vitality on the international stage. The contrast was stark: inside the forum, Putin was rejecting calls for peace; outside, air raid sirens were sounding.
That rejection had come just a day earlier. Zelensky had written an open letter to Putin on Thursday calling for a ceasefire and direct negotiations to end the war. He argued it would be "wrong to simply wait" for the conflict to regain attention in Washington, where the war with Iran had recently taken precedence over Ukraine in American strategic focus. Putin's response, delivered at the economic forum on Friday, was categorical: he would not meet with Zelensky, and he would not end the war until Russia's goals were met. He reiterated his long-standing demand that Ukraine withdraw from the Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia regions and abandon any effort to join NATO. A truce, he insisted, would only allow Ukraine to regroup and fight again.
Ukraine's position was equally firm. Zelensky said on Saturday that "it is time to end this war," but accused Putin of wanting to "keep fighting." Ukraine has refused to cede any territory, arguing that concessions would invite future invasions. The president was preparing to travel to the United Kingdom on Sunday for talks with some of Europe's strongest supporters—Prime Minister Keir Starmer, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, and French President Emmanuel Macron—signaling that Ukraine intended to continue prosecuting the conflict with allied support.
The broader campaign was becoming clearer. In recent weeks, Ukrainian drones had been systematically targeting Russian logistics in occupied eastern Ukraine. An analyst told the BBC that more than two hundred trucks and over thirty fuel tankers had been hit since the beginning of May. In the Russian-occupied Luhansk region, Moscow-installed authorities suspended coach services on two motorways and banned commuter trains and group transportation, citing security concerns. Over four years, Ukraine had transformed its defense sector, developing the capacity to regularly strike targets deep inside Russia. The focus had been on energy infrastructure and oil facilities—the sinews of Russia's war effort.
On the same day, Ukraine reported that Russia had attacked two civilian search-and-rescue vessels conducting a humanitarian mission in the Black Sea. Ukrainian Territorial Development Minister Oleksiy Kuleba said there were injured. Russia's military offered no public comment. The war, in its fourth year, had become a contest of attrition and reach, with each side accusing the other of targeting civilians—allegations both denied. What was clear was that the geography of conflict had expanded, and the calculus of negotiation remained frozen.
Notable Quotes
We fly in Russia like it's our own territory. Almost no resistance, not hard to reach a target.— Yevhen Karas, commander of the 413th Regiment Raid, Ukraine's Unmanned Systems Forces
It is time to end this war, but Russia's leader wants to keep fighting.— Volodymyr Zelensky, Ukrainian President (paraphrased)
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the governor's order to shelter indoors matter so much? Wasn't St. Petersburg already under threat from the war?
It was the first time in four years. That's the measure of how the conflict had changed. The drones had never reached that far before, or in such numbers. It signaled that nowhere in Russia felt safe anymore.
The numbers are striking—over 140 drones shot down, but the Ukrainian commander says there's almost no resistance. How do you square that?
You don't, really. Russia's air defense is stretched thin across a vast territory. They can intercept many drones, but the sheer volume and distance mean some always get through. And the commander's confidence suggests Ukraine has learned where the gaps are.
Putin rejected Zelensky's call for talks the day before this attack. Was the drone strike a response to that rejection?
It was certainly timed to make a point. Zelensky was saying, in effect: if you won't negotiate, we'll keep degrading your capacity to fight. The strike hit naval bases and oil depots—the infrastructure that fuels the war effort.
What about the economic forum happening at the same time? That seems almost surreal.
It was meant to show the world that Russia was functioning normally, attracting investment, moving forward. The drone attack was a direct contradiction of that narrative. It said: this country is not safe, not stable, not a good bet for your money.
Ukraine says it won't give up territory. Russia says it won't stop until its goals are met. How does that deadlock break?
It doesn't, not yet. Both sides are betting that attrition will eventually force the other to negotiate from weakness. Ukraine is trying to make the cost of war unbearable for Russia. Russia is trying to exhaust Ukraine's resources and will. The drone strikes are part of that calculus.
What does Zelensky's trip to Europe suggest about Ukraine's strategy?
That he's consolidating support among the strongest allies—Britain, Germany, France. He's signaling that Ukraine intends to keep fighting, and that Europe should keep backing it. It's a counterweight to any pressure from Washington to negotiate quickly.